


Remain My Faithful Only Darling

by asunder



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Barebacking, Fluff, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-06
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asunder/pseuds/asunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outside of the dreamshare world, Arthur takes Eames’ last name as his own after they’re married, which turns out not to be Eames at all. "Eames" is his middle name, but Arthur’s the only one that knows that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remain My Faithful Only Darling

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [annejumps](http://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps) for the beta and input <3 and [hargreeves](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hargreeves) for her google-fu. 
> 
> Title and end blurb from Beethoven's [Immortal Beloved](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Immortal_Beloved).

They get married in London on a cloudy Thursday in spring at an old church that’s now exclusively rented out for weddings. It’s beautiful, with its tall cathedral ceilings and old stone walls lined with windows made of stained glass depicting intricate designs. It’s more Eames than it is Arthur, which Arthur attributes to the array of different colored glass and the delicate detail in the carvings on the end of the old wooden pews. Still, Arthur loves it.

Before they step inside the church, Eames runs his hand down the long length of Arthur’s back, his palm sliding over the silky-smooth material of Arthur’s suit jacket. Arthur’s wearing a charcoal gray suit, the layers made up of different shades of gray that match the cloudy skies outside.

“You ready?” Eames asks Arthur.

Arthur nods, says, “Let’s go get hitched,” and smiles as he pulls Eames through the large wooden doors of the church.

They keep the ceremony simple, forgoing any friends or family, making it an intimate secret between just the two of them.

Standing at the altar in an otherwise empty sanctuary, Arthur stares over at Eames as the minister speaks. Eames is dressed in a dark navy suit with a salmon-colored shirt underneath. He’s left his collar open and relaxed, a few top buttons undone that reveal a sliver of warm skin and chest hair. He looks so very _Eames_ , and Arthur’s mind flashes back to the very same man he fell in love with years ago on a miserable job they both couldn’t wait to finish.

****  
Through the sniping and thinly veiled flirting they had managed to bond over how shitty their extractor was at his job. Everything eventually went to hell topside, and Arthur and Eames narrowly escaped, ending up with only a few scratches and bruises to show for it.

They were sitting idle in a car that Eames had hot-wired in their attempt to outrun the men after them. Eames had swiftly navigated them out of the town they were working in with a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. When Eames was sure no one was following them, he had pulled over to the side of the road so they could figure out what the fuck they were going to do next.

“Fucking hell,” Eames had exhaled. It seemed loud in the small space of the car. Arthur’s heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing wildly through his veins and rushing in his ears. He watched as Eames let his hands slide from the steering wheel and fall heavily to his lap.

It was then that Arthur felt his reservations about complicating his working relationship with Eames slip away. Arthur wanted him. He wanted that same graceful determination that Eames used to save their _lives_ directed at him, not realizing at the time that it already was.

Feeling bold and a little reckless, Arthur leaned over the gearshift to whisper into Eames’ ear, breath wet-hot, “Let’s get a room somewhere.”

Eames had turned his head sharply toward Arthur. He flushed under Eames’ gaze, the heat burning high on his cheeks. Arthur had a thin scratch along his right cheekbone, and Eames reached out to brush the pad of his thumb against it, smearing the blood across Arthur’s pale skin. Arthur’s breath caught in a small gasp, hardly audible above the purr of the still-running engine. Before Eames had a chance to react, to say anything, Arthur was surging forward and pressing his mouth against Eames’ in a sloppy, _perfect_ first kiss.

And well, really, it had only escalated from there.

****  
They exchange vows they’ve each written themselves. Arthur’s are simple and to the point, and achingly honest and beautiful because of it.

Eames is as charming as he ever is through his vows. As he speaks, his voice goes a little rougher than usual. Arthur hears the strain in it and is astonished to find that Eames is getting choked up. Arthur squeezes his hand and gives him a small, encouraging smile as Eames pauses to clear his throat. Eames squeezes back and doesn’t let go of Arthur’s fingers as he continues, forcing the words out around the lump in his throat.

When they've both said “I do,” Eames pulls Arthur in against him, a grin already spreading across Arthur’s face, and kisses him deeply. He places his hands on the small of Arthur's back to keep them pressed _so_ very close together. They pull apart just enough for Eames to whisper "I love you" into Arthur’s mouth, and then he darts in for one more quick kiss as they separate.

After the minister congratulates them, they leave the church in a rush. Arthur is thrumming with energy when they get in Eames’ car. He bites his lip to keep himself from smiling.

"Fuck,” Arthur says, dragging the word out slowly. He chuckles and looks over at Eames, and finally lets the grin he’s been fighting break free, his cheeks aching with the strain of it. Eames grins back at him, all crooked teeth and warm eyes. Arthur knows it’s the smile that Eames saves just for him.

Eames takes Arthur's hand in his own, his plush lips kissing gently over Arthur’s knuckles and the new elegant platinum band he's wearing. It matches Eames’ own ring, except for the writing engraved on the inside of the band. Arthur’s ring reads _I am my beloved’s_ , and Eames’ ring completes it with _And my beloved is mine_.

"Where to, darling?" he asks Arthur, the exhale of his breath warm against the skin on Arthur’s knuckles. Arthur's eyes soften as he says, "Home. Take me home, Eames."

Eames entangles his fingers with Arthur’s and rests them in his lap for the whole ride back to their house outside of the city.

As soon as they’re in the door they grab for each other. Arthur slides out off his jacket, letting it fall off his shoulders and drop to the floor. Eames works at the buttons of Arthur’s waistcoat, adding it to the pile of socks and shoes littering the hall leading to their bedroom.

Arthur strips off Eames’ suit jacket and follows with the braces underneath that, running his hands all over fabric and half-exposed skin as his fingers fumble to unbutton Eames’ shirt. He whispers Eames’ name, his proper first name, over and over like a plea against Eames’ lips. Want builds up inside of Arthur, so sudden and violent he hardly knows what to do with himself, causing him to tug a little carelessly on Eames’ shirt in his desperation. A button goes flying off in the process. Eames chuckles and kisses Arthur slowly. He pauses to pull Arthur's shirt tails out of his trousers and rubs his thumbs in soothing circles over Arthur's sharp hipbones. Arthur never tires of the way he fits so well in Eames’ hands.

They make their way to their big bed with the dark espresso-colored sheets, Eames murmuring how good Arthur looks pressed into them as Arthur spreads out on the mattress. Eames eases Arthur open with his thick fingers that are sure and slick inside Arthur’s body, knowing. When Arthur’s stretched and wet for him, he straddles Eames and rides his cock, rocking his hips down to meet each one of Eames' thrusts in a slow, sweet rhythm that leaves both of them flushed and panting for breath. They’re both slicked with sweat and so close to coming when Arthur leans his face close to Eames and breathes the words "Eames, flip me over” into his mouth.

Eames tosses Arthur onto his back in one fluid motion, pulling out only to slam his cock back inside Arthur, tilting the angle just right to hit Arthur’s prostate. Arthur groans loudly and winds his legs around Eames’ waist. His fingers dig into the skin and muscle of Eames’ broad shoulders as he rides out each brutal forward snap of Eames’ hips.

Arthur comes first, crying out Eames' name and tightening around where Eames is thick and warm inside of him. Eames continues to thrust through Arthur’s orgasm, Arthur’s muscles twitching around Eames’ cock. Eames’ rhythm falters the closer he gets to his own orgasm, hips stuttering and frantic. Arthur watches him with hooded eyes, whispering his encouragement for Eames to come inside of him _now, please, come on, Eames._

Eames comes then, his forehead pressed to Arthur's, exhaling a harsh breath against Arthur's mouth. Tilting his head up, Arthur licks at Eames’ parted lips as Eames pants for air, trying to catch his breath.

After a few moments Eames carefully pulls out of Arthur, but stays on top of him. He shifts his weight so he doesn't crush Arthur with the bulk of his body, and settles down against him. Tucking his face into Arthur's flushed, sweaty neck, he breathes in the musk of his skin and sucks at the underside of Arthur’s jaw. Arthur hums happily at the slick slide of Eames’ tongue stroking against his skin, and he cards his fingers through Eames' sweaty hair with lazy strokes, both of them drowsy and sated.

They stay like that for a long time, neither of them sleeping or talking, just sticky and warm where their sweat-slicked skin is pressed against one another. The sound of their breathing returning to normal is the only thing to be heard in the otherwise quiet room.

Eventually they pull themselves from the bed to shower and make dinner. For dessert they feed each other white frosted cupcakes Arthur picked up that morning from the bakery down the street.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Arthur licks vanilla buttercream frosting from the pads of Eames’ fingers, swirling his tongue around teasingly. As Arthur smiles up at Eames with his dimples on full display, Eames leans in to suck frosting off of Arthur’s bottom lip, licking into his mouth and giving him a sugar-sweet kiss.

Later that night when they settle into bed after another round of enthusiastic sex, Arthur curls his body around Eames’. He presses his front to Eames’ back and pulls him in close with possessive arms wrapped around his waist, holding Eames tightly against him.

“I love you so much,” Arthur whispers, pressing the words into the skin at the nape of Eames’ neck with the soft touch of his lips.

Arthur can hear the smile in Eames’ already sleep-blurred voice when he replies, “Me too, love. Always.”

 

***

_Forever thine  
forever mine  
forever us._


End file.
